


Femme Fatale

by Lullabymeth



Category: Skyfall (2012) - Fandom
Genre: M/M, Oral, cross-dressing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-30
Updated: 2012-12-30
Packaged: 2017-11-23 01:04:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/616359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lullabymeth/pseuds/Lullabymeth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Q should never test his gadgets himself and Bond really needs to learn to knock.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Femme Fatale

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt by http://sassygayq.tumblr.com
> 
> This is unbeta'd, please forgive the god awful grammar and spelling.

Quartermaster. It's probably gonna be the best professional job title he's had and will get during his lifetime under MI6. The perks of working with the high-class technology are enough to make any computer nerd drool spontaneously on site, having his own office is a nice touch too. If there's anything Q loves most about his job it's when he gets to personally handle creation of the special 00 gadgets, the rare occasions when he doesn't offload them to his interns is a pleasure.

  
However this particular gadget in progress is testing Q's love of his job, not to mention his patience. The latest from Q branch was meant for 009, the blonde bombshell with enough seduction dripping from her skin and fondness of explosions to rival the infamous Bond. Despite the common interests between the two agents whom he equips, Q isn't fond of designing this particular gadget. A dress. The main idea was to help install a digital microframe into the dress' fabric in order for weapons to be concealed from metal detectors. The current issue was whether it worked and if the weapons were too visible to the eye. Q's unfortunate dilemma is that no female agents were around to help with testing at this time. 009 is still out in the field and Moneypenny is busy helping M on meetings with the government. As a technician unwilling to let his work go into the field untested, Q sighed wearily to himself, still not believing what his brain was suggesting. He test it himself, put plainly: wearing the dress.

  
Q undresses as quickly as possible, hoping to get the testing done. His shirt, trademark cardigan and trousers are folded neatly and placed on his desk. He is still debating whether to be flattered or insulted as the black dress slips over his almost naked (the boxers stay) frame easily. He examines how the length of the hem that only reaches his knees. It is a lot shorter on him than it's intended wearer, but the flow of the cut seam in the side shows off his long pale legs. unfortunately the bust is just as loose, Q coughs to avoid thinking of 009's breasts, let alone think too long on the fact he's wearing the dress. He can feel his cheeks heat up when the fabric clings as he moves, the feeling of silk lining a new experience where he is used to wool and cotton. Q is glad he doesn't have a mirror in his office as he begins the tests, checking each weapon's hiding spot. Daggers, knives, a small handgun are all tucked away and confirmed with a pat. The next step is the metal detector, a hand-held one is sitting on his desk. Q reaches for it only to freeze when the door to his office opens suddenly, snapping his head quickly to see who it is makes his heart skip a beat.

  
"Q, M sent me down here to get....." Is the sound of the James Bond making his entrance into his quartermasters office and stopping dead in his tracks.

  
"Have you ever heard of bloody knocking?!" Q shouts, trying to remain composed in the black dress. The attempt is foiled by his face beaming a bright shade of crimson as Bond simply stops and admires.

"I'm not sure this is what I meant when I said you need something other than those ghastly cardigans to wear Q." Bond smirks as he closes the door and advances on the young technician.

Q is obviously flustered enough that he has no quick, sharp retort for the agent. He simply stares at Bond, wary and furiously embarrassed at the same time. The look of lust in Bonds brilliant blue eyes is enough to keep him silent. Bond reaches Q in a quick stride across the office, his hand reaches to caress Q's red face with a grin. It's a lovely sight, those grey blue eyes stare at him crossly.

"It's for 009" Q finally says as a matter of fact

Bond chuckles in reply, as if that explains everything. It doesn't stop him enjoying the moment, his hand continues with caresses, smoothing the deep coloured silk down Q's back until he grabs his backside roughly pulling their bodies together. Q eyes widen in surprise as he gasps at the sensation, gripping Bond's arms harshly. The fabric is playing havoc with his senses, he never feels these bone chilling shivers when Bond grabs him in his normal clothes.  
Bond sets his mind on stealing Q's breath with long kisses that taste of 007's favourite scotch and toothpaste. His hands meanwhile rub the sides of the dress intimately, rising slowly to caress the empty bust and back to Q's narrow buttocks. Bonds hands feel different from their usual groping, Q wants to put it down to his embarrassment of being caught in women's clothing. He wants to, but can't. All he can think about is comparing if this how Bond handles the many women he's been with. It's a part of their relationship, if this is even what this is, they've never talked about. They never needed to, Q is professional enough to know it's 007's job to get the information he needs by any means necessary but to say he wasn't even a little jealous would be to compare Q to one of his machines.

Jealousy pushes Q to respond to Bonds caress by kissing him violently, possessively. His arms wrap around James shoulders and holds him close. For once he wants to feel like he's the mission, he's the target that Bond will stop at nothing to get what he wants. Bond feels Q's mood change and groans encouragingly into the mouth attacking his, determination setting in he uses his hands on Q's boney hips to maneuver them towards the Quartermasters desk. As soon as Q's bum hits the side he breaks away from the kiss  
"Careful 007, there's rather a few sharp things hidden in this" He smirks at 007 expression when he slides his hand down the front of the black fabric, only to stop short of his navel. Q almost closes his eyes under the pure unhidden lust that shows on Bonds face, it's too intoxicating to keep watch and knowing he's the cause.

"Well then, better get on with testing it" Bond simply smiles.

Then there are hands again, this time one on his hips and the other trailing back to the loose bust. One strap is already half way down Q's shoulder, giving Bond more access to Q's chest. He pulls a nipple, Q's breath hitches "You'll have to get this adjusted Q, its scandalous" Bond chuckles as his other hand rubs the boys hip where the dress begins to split, but not where he wants it most. He buries his head in Q's slender neck, adding feather light bites to the teasing of his nipples. Its infuriating for the boy, Bond is giving him enough stimulation to keep him hot but not enough to satisfy. Bond knows this as Q's hips begin to buck off the desk, desperately seeking friction. He moves his hand from Q's hip to caress the thin thighs under the black silk, the feel of one of the knives strapped to the boy sends a thrill of lust down his spine, reminding him of this unusual situation for Q. Bond continues his groping away from his erection until he takes pity on the boy. Palming Q through the dress he bites the sensitive spot behind his ear hard. The sudden stimulation rips a half moan, half sob from Q's mouth while his body shakes against Bonds with waves of pleasure. The fabric may hide most of the weapons, but Q's lust is evident from the bulge of dress and Bond is too eager to see the boy debauched.

Bond pulls away against the protests of Q to get a good look at the boy. His hairs a mess, Q's glasses are sliding down his nose, letting his arousal blown pupils to be seen. Q is leaning against the desk breathing deeply, cheeks flushed, legs spread slightly and just waiting. Bond struggles not to hate Q for his ease of trust towards him, when he knows he could break him so easily. Bond makes a move to kneel before Q, he can already hear his breath hitching. It's not very often he does this for his Quartermaster but after all it's not everyday he finds him wearing a dress, he slides his hands under the split of the skirt to push it up over Q's other hip and into his a hand.

"Be a good boy and hold this" Bond lets Q grip the hem of the dress to reveal his superman boxers, already they're struggling to contain his erection and have a tell-tale wet spot from his excitement. Bond felt rather than heard Q's sigh of relief as his boxers were pulled to his knees, his erection free to breathe. It stood proudly from its nest of dark curls and the head was already weeping, Bond didn't feel like giving in to Q just yet. He mouthed around the boy's lust, kissing the pale thighs and feeling them quiver.  
The brush of Bond's stubble and the lightness of his kisses were maddening to Q, ever closer they came to his heat but moved just as quickly away. It only provoked more shakes from his body "P..please James....christ..enough" Q begged quietly, adding to his guilty shame that in turn only furthered his lust. Smiling up at the poor boy Bond took the head of his cock slowly into his mouth and sucked, content that Q was teased enough.

"Oh. Oh god." Q gripped the desk harder with one hand and almost dropped the dress with the other at the sensation Bond assaulted him with. He diverted between sucking, licking down the side to the base and back. Bond smirked as best he could round his mouthful when Q almost jumped out his skin as two strong hands joined to squeeze his thighs. He could feel the boys muscles straining to keep himself upright, but continued to sooth them with light strokes that made him feel even more alert.  
Q's nerves were on fire, the coil in the pit of his stomach getting ever tighter and hotter when Bond worked his way to take more than just the head of his cock in. He began to rock his hips gently as he watched this dangerous man take his member deep into his throat. They worked an easy rhythm that Bond dominated, pinning Q's hips when he got to frisky but it only frustrated him further. Bond slid his mouth down faster on Q, his cock slick with saliva to make the movement easier. Every so often he would come back up to lick the underside of his swollen cock, tonguing the slit to earn a few harsh cries from Q.

"Jaames, hurry, I..I'm close" Q shivered, his body wracked with hypersensitivity and the need to come ever so strong. The heat that traveled down to his cock was burning and too much. Bond just chuckled and redoubled his efforts, moving faster than before. Q's hand left the desk to thread through and grip James cropped hair, his mouth hanging open in a wordless moan. As Bond hummed and moved, Q's breath became wrecked sobs and a mantra of his name "James."

The finger that slowly crept from his thigh to brush against the boys entrance was the final straw, Q locked up tight and froze as he came harder than he ever thought he could. Bond remained a steady support, soothing the boy through the intense orgasm that felt like it would never end. He swallowed and released Q's cock with a obscene pop and brought him down to the floor on shaky legs. Q was still in post-orgasmic shock, he looked up at Bond through his sweaty locks and half lidded eyes. He hadn't the energy to comment at Bond's shit eating grin that he was wearing so he simply glared. It earned him a chuckle from Bond as he moved in-between the boys legs to kiss his cheek.  
"Next time, you should make matching underwear." That time Q had the energy to slap him.


End file.
